


essences: a farmer's guide to woodworking

by d12inspiration



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, Nonbinary Character, Other, References to Depression, Slow Burn, took some liberties with my interpretations of these characters lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d12inspiration/pseuds/d12inspiration
Summary: Starting over is hard. Coming clean can be even harder. But the artist south of the farm makes you want to try harder if means you get to start over together.
Relationships: Leah/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Leah/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	1. Preface: What is Woodworking?

The density of trees jumped out at you first. The only mark that confirmed that this patch of what seemed to be forest also doubled as a bus stop was a sign about six feet tall, rusting at the edges, with an old and fading clip art cartoon of a bus printed on its front.

Some comforting sights, however, were patches of wild flowers that grew along the trunks of the thicker trees and began to crawl along the berry bushes. Tall, yellow, white, green, and proud for having made it this long without being plucked by an irate gardener. A farmer, perhaps.

Is that what I’m calling myself now?

You finally stood, hoisting your laundry bag over your shoulder. You checked your purse, feeling for your phone, wallet, and charger, and a quick shake of your bag confirmed that your keys hadn’t fallen out. Your suitcase’s handle clicked up, and you made your way down the bus aisle, the rolling of the suitcase and hum of the bus’s engine sending you off into the unknown.

An older man waited outside, and you stepped aside to let him board.

“Oh, no, not for me!” The man laughed and grinned brightly. “I’m Lewis, your grandfather’s old friend.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize.” The man in front of you seemed sprightly and enthusiastic, and the pronounced crow’s feet next to twinkling, dark eyes confirmed your suspicions. He kept a strong, well-groomed handlebar mustache, which seemed very fun and charming. There was something unique and special about older folk who stayed young at heart, and you saw that hint of magic in this man. Plus, he began to fit the bill of the man your grandfather would describe in some of his stories.

“That’s perfectly fine,” he remarked, tossing his hand to the side, brushing the comment off. “You _are_ Harry’s grandkid, right? Moving into the old Dias estate?”

“It sounds very official when you call it an estate,” you nodded nervously. “But yes, that’s me.”

“It _is_ very official,” Lewis remarked as the bus doors closed. “That farm of your grandfather’s was a real staple to the valley, nothing to look down on. I suppose it’s that farm of _yours_ , now, too.” He stepped toward the wooden fence in the distance, glancing back at you.

“Come on, let’s get you settled in. Here, let me take one of those bags.” You handed Lewis your suitcase and followed him down and to the right, half listening as he filled the silence with rambles of who you’d meet, upcoming festivals you’d attend, and any other number of conversation fillers until you spotted a little farmhouse in the distance.

That had to be it, but where was the farm itself?

Lewis kept leading you forward and until he eventually stopped, spreading his arms out to the air.

“Here we are!” Lewis exclaimed. “Dias Farm!”

_This_ was it?

The land was absolutely overrun with an abundance of trees, bushes, weeds, and even large rocks. The only break from the overgrowth was the occasional stream of running freshwater, although even you had to admit that it was honestly very beautiful. If it wasn’t for the fact that you would have to clear all of this growth, it would’ve been a sight you eagerly welcomed.

“Lewis!”

You both noticed a woman pop her head out of your front door and wave. You blinked and cocked your head to the side, a bit taken aback that someone was already in your new home.

“That’s Robin,” Lewis reassured, chuckling nervously. “She’s the town carpenter. Don’t worry, she’s a lovely lady. She’s been doing a little check up on your house, cleaning up the cobwebs, stuff like that.”

“Ah,” you nodded, still wary. Robin walked out onto the little porch and put her hands on her hips.

“It’s all up to speed! You our new farmer?” She looked to be in her later thirties, early forties. She hopped down the steps and crossed up to you, extending her hand forward. “I’m Robin.”

You introduced yourself, nodding politely and trying not to think about this huge plot of land you needed to clear. Robin and Lewis exchanged a few pleasantries before Robin turned to fully face you.

“Hey, I know this is a big job in front of you,” she said softly. “It’s probably all very overwhelming right now. But we’re not going to let you sink, okay? Hell, I’d help you clear this myself if I didn’t have my own nine to five.” She took a deep breath, surveying the vast plot of land before you three.

“Everyone in town is very kind, and I’m sure they’re all willing to help. You’ll be meeting Pierre soon enough, and he’s got plenty of stuff in stock to help you get started. Clint can help with your tools, and Robin here can help with building. Here, you’ve even got some tools all ready for you. Some reliable old tools that’ll make quick work of these rocks and branches, yeah?”

Lewis showed you to the side of the porch and opened a creaky wooden chest, filled with an array of tools. Robin placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“You’re going to fit right in. I can feel it.” She smiled, and you felt your shoulders relax. “Here, come to the saloon Friday night. I’ll introduce you to the people around here and buy you a drink or two. How’s that?”

“I’d like that,” you nodded. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Perfect!” Robin exclaimed, spreading her arms out. “Friday night, I’ll save you a seat at the bar. The saloon is close to Lewis’s house, you can’t miss it. Fun little brick building.”

“Friday night,” you agreed, letting yourself enjoy the moment. “Thanks, Robin.”

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, I suppose,” Lewis remarked, backing up awkwardly.

“Right,” you said, taking your suitcase back from him. “I’ve got some unpacking to do.”

Robin and Lewis both said their farewells and began walking back to what you could only guess was the main part of Pelican Town. You turned to the farmhouse, walking up the creaking stairs and into your new home.

* * *

At this point, your commitment to not letting Robin down was the only thing keeping you loyal to your word. Nerves were already tensing your muscles and making your thoughts race in circles around each other. You really only knew Robin and Lewis, and by now you’d met Pierre as a business acquaintance, if anything. But to you, that didn’t mean anything substantial. Sure, you’d seen a few townspeople in passing, but how much could that even mean?

You could see the saloon clearly now. Truly, it was a fun little brick building with a hand painted sign framing the door nicely: The Stardrop Saloon: Food and Spirits. You could hear music and a multitude of voices from inside, surely a lively scene.

You took a moment to steady yourself outside the door and walked in before you could change your mind.

Warm lighting and even warmer faces greeted you, flush with drink and heated conversation. Some strangers didn’t even turn their gazes while some stared a little too long for comfort, trying to figure out who this newcomer was. Some made the connection while others still struggled to place your visage in their minds.

The saloon’s atmosphere, though, was inviting and felt like it could easily fit in to your idea of a new home. Lights hung in intervals along the sides of the walls, casting an easy golden glow onto patrons and workers alike. Floral arrangements popped up from the centers of multiple tables, though they stayed short enough to where conversation across the table was as natural as ever.

“Over here!” You snapped out of your trance and turned, spotting Robin and a man next to her flagging you down at the bar.

You pushed your way through, giving the appropriate “Excuse me” and “Pardon me” as you went. Lewis clapped your shoulder as you walked by, giving a big grin as he moved out of your way.

“Hello, new farmer,” the man with Robin smiled, stepping down from his bar stool and shaking your hand. “I’m Demetrius, Robin’s husband.” His handshake was strong and firm, and it matched the outward persona you were picking up on.

Demetrius seemed to you like a gentle giant. His dark brown eyes sparkled as he spoke, and you instantly felt your shoulders relax again. A sky blue polo, buttoned up to just short of the collar, popped against his dark brown skin and heather gray slacks.

“A pleasure,” you grinned, glad to meet someone new, especially someone as upfront and eager as Robin.

“You can’t have ‘em too long, babe, I’m showing this kid the ropes.” Robin giggled, jumping down and giving her husband a quick kiss on the cheek. “We’ll have plenty of time to converse once they meet everyone.”

“ _Everyone_?” You asked, turning your head. Robin already had both of your shoulders in her hands, and she turned you around to face the rest of the bustling bar.

In the span of the next twenty minutes, you met a solid chunk of the town’s populace in various states of intoxication. Towards the end of the tour, your eye caught a table in the corner where two redheads sipped from wine glasses and conversed. One had long, wavy hair and wrapped himself up in a well-fitted red coat with matte gold buttons. He toyed with his glass as he spoke, and immediately you recognized this type of artsy. You cocked a smile, happy for the familiarity. You knew this type of guy, and you knew it well; this kind of artist reminded you of some of your closer friends back in the city. Melodramatic, but ultimately humble enough and a pleasure to be around nevertheless. The woman, you assumed, had to be right up that same alley.

Her bright orange hair was pulled back in a long braid falling over her shoulder, starkly contrasting with her forest green crop top with fun, puffy shoulder sleeves. As she brushed back her bangs, you caught sight of—were those _purple irises_? The saloon’s lighting was probably altering your perception anyway.

“Leah! Elliot!” Robin exclaimed, her arm around your shoulder as her other hand slapped their table. “This is the new farmer, you’ve probably seen them around here and there. Still quite new, so I took it upon myself to get them all acquainted with the town.”

You introduced yourself further, giggling and flushing at Robin’s sheer confidence as you went. You saw Leah nod, leaning back and setting her glass down on a stone coaster as she gave you a small smirk. Elliot fully turned his body to indicate that you had his full attention, and you stifled a small laugh. _Just_ like your actor friends back in the city.

“Yeah, I just moved in on Monday, actually,” you began. “Still finishing unpacking and all that. This place is really nice!”

“Elliot,” the man introduced himself and extended a hand. “An absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance. If you’re on the farm, I’m afraid you’re a bit of a walk away from where I live, but I would be honored to help usher a new neighbor into feeling more at home. I’ve only lived here for a year, however, so I sometimes still feel new to Pelican Town, as well.”

“I haven’t been here too long either,” Leah chimed in, leaning back forward and resting her elbows on the table to prop her head up. “Not quite Elliot’s situation, but close enough. We both moved from the city.”

“I did, too!” Your eyebrows shot up, and you felt infinitely grateful for the conversation’s ease.

“Here, I’ll get you a drink,” Robin said to you. “Be right back.”

“Please, sit,” Elliot offered, pulling out a chair next to him that was situated across the table from Leah. “Where are you from in Zuzu City?”

“Just outside the college campus,” you nodded. “Out of range of block parties and jacked up off-campus student housing, though, which is _very_ nice.”

“Were you looking for a getaway of sorts? That’s certainly why I moved out of the city. I’m writing a novel, see, and I really felt that moving here, to a town with a much slower pace to living, would certainly aid my process.” He blinked, and you didn’t realize he was waiting for a response until he spoke again. “As in, my process of _writing_ —”

“Oh, no, I know what you’re talking about,” you laughed. “I have friends who are writers, too, and sometimes they’ll talk to me about their projects. Not novels, though—mostly screenplays, short films, stuff like that. One or two poets in the mix who dabble in prose when they’re feeling adventurous.” Elliot laughed, and you began feeling more and more at ease around Elliot.

Robin approached your table again, setting a glass in front of you. “Hope you like wine,” she grinned. “It’s strawberry! Also, me and Demetrius probably won’t be able to help you back home if you get a little tipsy, cause I’m already past that and him and I live up north, whereas you’re a whole ‘nother way. But here—” Robin pulled a receipt from her pocket and began scrawling on its back with a pen. “Here’s my number. Call me, and I can stay with you on the phone while you walk back. It’s a safe town, but it’ll ease my mind, you know?”

She offered a weak smile as she spoke. The sentiment was genuinely touching, and you nodded again.

“I’ll keep you updated. Thank you, that’s extremely kind of you.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Just lemme know. Alright, kid, have a blast. I’m gonna go dance with my man.” She winked, turning on her heel and making her way back to Demetrius.

“She’s really fucking cool,” Leah grinned, motioning to Robin with a nod.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “She’s been so nice to me ever since I moved in.”

“She’s an artist, too, in her own way,” Elliot commented, sipping his wine. “Carpentry, I mean. Architecture.”

“Of course she’s an artist,” Leah scoffed. “It’s just more logical than what the rest of us do.”

“Leah _adores_ Robin’s more elaborate woodworking,” Elliot smirked, turning back to you. “She’s a more traditional artist, in the sense that she specializes in visual art.”

“ _Traditional_?” Leah rolled her eyes while smiling, looking slightly embarrassed as she took another drink from her glass.

“I mean that as a compliment,” Elliot offered, leaning in. “When those outside of our spheres think ‘artist,’ often their first thoughts are those of _your_ profession. Paintings, drawings, sculptures, the like.”

“Sculptures?” You raised an eyebrow over the rim of your glass. “Like life size sculptures of people and animals and stuff?”

“Sometimes people, yeah,” Leah glanced to the side and shrugged, trying to hide her blush. You couldn’t quite place the cause: shyness surrounding her craft or just straight booze warming the body. “Takes a while, though. Guess it just depends.”

“What medium do you use?” You leaned in, eager to learn about the more aloof person at this table.

Leah glanced over to make eye contact with you, as if you were finally beginning to speak the same language.

“I like working with wood,” she began. “It’s a big reason I’m so interested in Robin’s work. She doesn’t have a lot of time for creative projects, though. I mean, I get it, but I love the simplicity in her decorations. But you can still see her personality in what she chooses to design and how she chooses to carve it, you know?” You nodded, keeping quiet in the hopes that she would still elaborate.

“I offered to buy one of her pieces,” Leah continued, “but she brushed the offer away, saying it wasn’t anything special. I didn’t want to offend, so I just dropped the conversation. Still.” Leah shrugged. “Sometimes you can see it more clearly than you think in her building construction, even. She adds her own embellishments, is what I mean.”

“Gotcha,” you said, cocking you head to the side slightly. Leah paused, as if expecting you or Elliot to change the topic, but you both kept looking at Leah to go on. Was she not used to talking about what she loves?

“I live in the woods to the west of here, actually,” Leah continued, looking down. “I’ve got a little cottage out there. I’m surrounded with trees, so there’s plenty of material to work with. It’s nice. Quiet. Got Marnie and her animals to keep me company, so it’s not too lonely. ‘Course Elliot makes his rounds sometimes, too.” She motioned to her friend with her glass, giving a small smile. “Two starving artists in our own little special isolations.” Elliot chuckled and drank.

“What about you?” Leah looked back over at you, her gaze softer than before. “What do you do? Aside from farming, of course.”

“Oh,” you blinked, looking down at the wood grain under your hands. “Well, I did data input for Joja Co. back in the city, nothing huge,” you shrugged. “That’s part of what sucked about it, I guess. I felt like I wasn’t doing anything at all.” You took a second for yourself. Was it time to open up to strangers?

Yes, you think it is. These two seemed trustworthy, and you couldn’t extend that courtesy in good conscience to everyone you met back in the city. The town seemed, thus far, like it actively wanted you here. You took another drink.

“I didn’t make much, obviously, and there wasn’t reason for me to meet with many people cause of my position. So I was really by myself for a lot of it. Which is fine, if you’re into that.” You paused and took another drink, steadily chipping away at the little ring of red waiting at the bottom of your glass. “But there was a day about two years in for me. I can’t even remember some big event that caused it, so it’s not even a cool, grandiose day that sent me packing. I just… I was really sad. I felt numb _all_ the time. And I remembered that my grandpa left me with this, this envelope. A letter. And he wanted me to open it when, you know…”

You gently swirled what was left of your wine, shrugging. “Like those cute little present ideas that say, ‘Open when you’re feeling this! Open when you’re feeling that!’ And so I opened it, cause why the fuck not? And it… it ended up being this invitation. He said he left his farm in my name, and I could go there to start over. So I did. I put in my two weeks like a good little worker, I dropped everything, and then I moved here. I brought a suitcase, a carry on, my phone, and my wallet. And now I’m learning how to farm from scratch. And I’m here.”

You looked up for the first time to find the stunned but knowing visages of Elliot and Leah staring back at you.

“And now you’re here,” Leah nodded once, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. You caught a glint of true understanding and empathy in her eyes, and this time she held your gaze. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Your body froze, but you still felt blood rushing to your cheeks as you flushed deeply. “It’s—it’s very nice to meet you, too.”

“We’re more alike than you may wager us to be,” Elliot commented softly. “Leah’s story and mine echo a lot of the same sentiment you just shared. Hers perhaps a bit more so than mine, but nevertheless. You’re in very good company, friend.” He smiled at you, gently clinking his glass against yours. “Feel free to stop by if you’re ever at the beach,” Elliot added. “I’m in that little wooden shack by Willy’s, you can’t miss it.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll stop by,” you replied enthusiastically and finished your glass. As you went to set it back down, you missed the coaster by a few inches and slid it towards the stone, and you snorted at your own lack of base dexterity.

“Are you feeling alright?” Elliot laughed at your blunder and cocked an eyebrow over at you.

“I just realized I didn’t have much to eat today,” you giggled, shaking your head. “This shit is going _right_ through me. I’ll be fine making it home, though—” you clarified, looking each of them in the eye as you went— “I’ll just be a little buzzed by the time I get there. I, uh… I might’ve had a shot or two before I came here, anyway. Ease the nerves.”

“You sure you don’t need some help home?” Leah tilted her head and pushed her empty glass towards the center of the table. “You said your farm isn’t too far from the woods?”

“Yeah, Marnie’s is just south of the farm, actually.”

“Then maybe we should get you going soon,” Leah replied, softer than before. “I’m sure you’re plenty capable and all, but I really just wanna make sure.”

“It’s still early enough,” Elliot agreed and stood. “However, ah,” he shifted from one foot to the other and fiddled with the stem of his glass. “My home is _quite_ out of the way from where the farm is. I’m afraid it would actually take me an hour or two to walk you home and then walk all the way back to the opposite side of town. Ah, maybe we could find something—?”

“It’s fine,” you protested, shaking your head and rifling through your pockets for a tip. “Really, it’s cool—”

“I’ll walk with you,” Leah offered. “I live really close to Marnie, so I think your place is close enough to mine. And if I’m not sure, you can give me a pointer.”

You began to decline again, but Leah cut you off. “Nope, I made up my mind, and your place is close to where I’m headed. I ate before this, so I’m doing just fine.” She dropped off her glass and a tip on the bar, saluted to Gus and Emily, and turned back to you.

You blinked, not sure of how to respond. You saw out of the corner of your eye Elliot smirking at Leah and slowly setting his glass off to the side. Leah extended a hand, motioning her head towards the door.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” she said, smiling. “I wanna see the new digs.”

You giggled, throwing caution to the wind and taking her hand in yours. Now blessed with the sway of mild intoxication, you more easily twisted and weaved your way through the saloon before holding the door open for Elliot, who was trotting over behind you. He thanked you as you all stepped out into the fresh night air.

“Well, I suppose I’ll be on my way, then,” Elliot remarked, looking out at the night sky. “Seeing as I’m headed in the exact opposite direction. Sorry about that, by the way,” he added, giving the dirt a small kick.

“Really, Elliot, it’s fine,” you grinned. “But I’m touched by the apology, though, so thank you.”

He chuckled and waved. “I’ll see the both of you some other time, then. The Egg Festival, at the very latest. Goodnight, you two!”

“Night!” You both waved goodbye to Elliot before turning towards the town square and heading off. Leah let go of your hand, and something inside of you was both relieved and let down all at once.

You were silent for a minute or two until Leah broke the silence.

“You chose a good time to move to the valley,” she commented, looking up the stars above. “It’s beautiful in the spring. And you get nights like this.”

“I can definitely get used to it,” you agreed. “Hopefully, once I’m used to a farmer’s schedule, I can find time to just sit out and read. Maybe learn to start a little campfire or something.”

“You don’t know how to start a campfire?” The grin was well meaning and teasing, but you shoved your hands into your pockets in embarrassment.

“Of course I know, or, like, I could figure it out. Got plenty of fresh wood to clear. Matches. Could throw something together.”

“I’m sorry, that was rude of me,” she apologized, shaking her head. “I’m just so used to that kind of stuff at this point.”

“It’s okay.” You brushed it off, focusing instead on the gentle click of your heels on the cobblestone as it began shifting into a dirt road.

“I can teach you some of that once you have some free time, if you want.”

You kept walking, and you were silent for a moment before Leah piped up again.

“It just gets a little lonely in the woods, but it’s whatever. I know you’re really busy with farming and all, so it’s no pressure—”

“I would like that, actually” you replied, toying with the insides of your pockets in any effort to keep your empty hands busy. After a moment, you continued, adding, “I’m really glad I met you and Elliot today, so it’d be really nice to see you again.” Fuck it, new job, new life, new you. Let’s be direct. No more aloof, unspoken, unwritten rules of social etiquette that you were expected to already know in the city.

You glanced over at Leah after a small bout of silence, and you caught a small tug pulling the corner of her lips up.

“I’d like that, too,” she finally replied softly. She added, after another minute, “Or you could even stop by my place, since I’m so close.”

You immediately squeezed the fabric of your pockets, desperate for any way to let out the excitement bubbling up and tightening your chest.

“Sure,” you replied as casually as you could muster. After a minute, you glanced up to gauge how far out you two still were. “Oh, shit, I guess this is me.” You saw the farmhouse clearly from this distance. You felt your throat close for a second when you realized that Leah would see how much your farm was being thrown together by someone who didn’t know what they were doing. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You waited for her to turn around, to say goodnight once you announced your arrival home, but she kept walking with you all the way to your doorstep.

“Well, alright,” Leah said, putting her hands on her hips. “Drink a lot of water before you fall asleep. Helps with cotton mouth in the morning.” She smirked and took a step back from the porch.

“Thanks for walking me home, by the way. That’s, uh, that’s really kind of you.”

“Oh, man, it’s totally no problem. It was super nice to meet you, too.”

“Yeah, likewise–” Who the fuck says likewise? “I’ll definitely stop by your place once I find some time.” You were one hundred percent stalling at this point.

“Great!” Leah dropped her arms and tried to hide the deep breath she was taking. “Alright, goodnight for real this time. I’ll see you around. Goodnight!” She took a few more steps back, grinned, and waved before turning and heading towards the woods south of the farm.

“Goodnight!” You waved back, waiting just a moment before darting into the farmhouse.

Fuck. Why did I make that goodbye last ten fucking years? Shit, man.

You crumpled against the doorway, inwardly cursing yourself for how you handled that. After sleeping on it, you already knew that this wouldn’t be a problem at all. Leah probably didn’t think anything of it. But now? Your flimsy handling of the situation stung.

You ended up following Leah’s advice and chugging two glasses of water before turning in. Better safe than sorry.

You curled up in your bed, left alone with your thoughts before sleep took you. Overall, you considered tonight a resounding success. With your goodbye with Leah as really the only faux pas of the evening, you were pretty proud of yourself.

Leah. It was a beautiful name, you thought. Melodious, but short and to the point. Distinct. Grounded. You weren’t completely sure what poetics were confounding you, surely an implant from osmosis and being around Elliot, but it felt right all the same. Her place in town, her calling, the way she seemed to regard the world around her. It all felt real. She felt safe, but still fun and able to surprise you.

You fell asleep pondering these first impressions, trying to draw the line between a realistic personality and the romanticizing of a fruitful and promising first impression. Maybe, just for now, those two wouldn’t have to be mutually exclusive. Maybe, just for now, these fantasies could lead you to right where you need to be.


	2. What You Work With

The maple tree towering above you offered excellent shade from the mid afternoon sun, who you knew kept a daily habit of making sure your back was soaked in sweat by day’s end.

You rifled through the small, woven basket in your lap, filled with assorted vegetables freshly picked and washed from this morning’s harvest. You still wished that you could bring fruit instead, but you were recently informed that strawberries, oranges, and blueberries would have to wait until the summer. Instead, you settled for a neutral-toned spread of cauliflower, yellow potatoes, and two handfuls of spring onions you recently found in a day-long foraging escapade.

Your night at the bar with Robin and the rest of the town was about a week and a half behind you by now. Your communication with Elliot and Leah suffered a bit since then, as you often kept to yourself on the farm, clearing trees and tending to crops. You didn’t like to think about that, but you still found a small comfort in how those two seemed to be very laid back, even in their own relationships. These weren't the same high maintenance, tumultuous, and needy relationships you were accustomed to from the city.

Leah’s cottage was in eyesight by now, but you still sat to collect your thoughts before seeing her. Sometimes you felt like relaxing on your farm was a luxury, and that luxury would be out of your price range until _maybe_ by the time winter rolled around and crops weren’t your first priority. But here, that problem was literally behind you, and focusing elsewhere seemed to come more easily. Plus, it helped to have a tangible excuse to come out here in the first place.

After giving your back a quick pat down—not even that much sweat today, surprisingly—you rose and began walking toward Leah’s. Just like with the saloon, you figured it best to give yourself the push you needed before you found an excuse to turn back around and bail.

Before you knew it, you were at her front door, your heels dug rather stubbornly into the turned dirt. You didn’t know if she was home, so maybe she would see a cute little basket left at her doorstep as fascinating and aloof (in a cool way).

The faint sound of music interrupted your hypothetical, and you could tell that it was coming from inside Leah’s cottage. So she actually was home.

A steady beat of something accompanied the music. Something resembling, what, nail and hammer, maybe? You couldn’t place it.

You finally knocked, tightening your grip on the basket handle in your other hand as you did. Shit, maybe she wouldn’t hear you knock over the noises and you could leave the basket at her door. But you didn’t have a card. Or a pen—

“Just a minute!”

The hammering paused, then the music. Soft footsteps on hardwood circled around and stopped in front of you as the door swung open.

“Oh, hey!” Leah smiled warmly, taking a step back and making room for you to walk in. The clear work goggles perched atop her head slid off, and she lunged to the side to snatch them mid-air. She shot you a quick grin. “Come on in. I’ve been working, but I was about to take a break anyway.”

“Oh, okay,” you replied, gingerly stepping in and closing the door behind you. “I, ah, I thought you might like these. I don’t have anything for a campfire right now, sadly enough, but I do have these,” you added and gestured to the produce, “and, so, I was like, ‘Hey, why not, been meaning to see Leah anyway,’ and—”

“Aw, that’s so sweet!” She then took the basket from you and began inspecting each vegetable with an enthusiasm that surprised you. Noted, she likes vegetables. “These look _amazing_. Thank you for these, really.”

“Of course,” you nodded once and gave a small smile. You found yourself still talking if it meant you could stall for a bit more time. It was the Friday Night Goodbye all over again. “I found some nice ones and thought, ‘Share the love,’ you know? I was going to save some to pan fry, but my house kind of doesn’t have a kitchen—?”

The sudden ringing of Leah’s landline interrupts you, and you snap to attention as Leah’s head whips around. She crossed over to her kitchen table to set your basket down before picking up the phone, her eyebrows pulling together ever so slightly.

“Hello?” She was silent for a moment, and you noticed her jaw give the smallest reflex, a slight quiver. “I’m sorry, you’ve got the wrong number. Goodbye.” She hung up, eyed the little yellow screen on the device, and then turned back to you, her visage noticeably colder.

“Who was that?” You offered as a small alleviation to the tension.

“Spam,” she remarked bitterly. “Once you set up shop at your new place, it’s all those promotional calls and grabs for money, you know?”

“Yeah.” You thought it best not to pry deeper.

Leah crossed over to her bedside table, tossed the goggles onto the floor beside the table, and pressed a button on the stereo resting on top. Shit, you hadn’t seen a stereo that still plays CD’s in _years_. Soft yet driving rock began to fill the silence, reminiscent of radio stations you would listen to years ago that advertised “yesterday’s hits.”

She sat down on her bed, pulling her knees in and spreading a blanket out over her. Despite her suddenly inward focus, she still glanced over at you. “Wait, did you say you don’t have a kitchen?”

Your words caught in your throat for a moment. Did she actually pick up on that? “Yeah, I don’t, it’s really weird, actually—”

“Wait, then how do you _eat_?”

“I mean, I’ve got a _table_ , I eat a lot of salads cause it doesn’t require _straight up cooking_ , and I was able to afford a little mini fridge from Robin—”

“ _Just_ a minute. Okay. There’s nowhere for you to cook. And you grow your own food.” She cocked an eyebrow, her facial expression in and of itself asking you to make it all make sense. You stuttered out a choppy breath, feeling your entire face go red as her stare refused you the luxury of breaking eye contact. Your voice sounded a little too similar to a fucking dweeb than you would have liked.

“I mean, for the most part, yeah.”

Leah began giggling as she propped her head onto her knees. “I’m sorry, that’s literally not even your fault. I’m just being a dick. Okay, but that’s absolutely ridiculous that you don’t have anywhere to _create and consume meals_.”

“Yeah, now that you mention it. I guess I was really just willing to take whatever I could get if it meant I could quit my old job.”

“It was that bad, huh?”

“I was in literal hell.” It was your turn to begin giggling, and you glanced at the floor. That's enough of that, you think. “I mean, I’m gonna ask Robin to help expand my house, hopefully in the summer. It’ll give me a kitchen, and a room to myself. She brought the price down for me a bit on the condition that I supply her with some raw materials to get the job done. It was actually really kind of her. I just need one hell of a harvest. Or three.” You shrugged, only looking back up at Leah when she didn’t respond.

Her gaze softened considerably, her visage and aura reading now as more steady and rooted.

“Do you have the evening off?”

The question caught you off guard, and you suddenly felt your heart beating in your neck. You prayed to whatever higher powers were at work that she didn’t notice.

“I do.”

Leah cracked a small smirk and climbed out of her bed. “Then I can only hope you brought an appetite with you.” You watched her make her way to the kitchen, taking the basket with her as she passed the table.

“I know how to cook, though,” you called after her, craning your neck around to see her pull out a large cast iron pan.

“Yes, but you have nowhere to do it. As of now, at least.” You caught her flash you a small grin, and you rolled your eyes playfully. “The woods here are fair game, by the way. To help with getting materials for Robin. It’s not privately owned or anything. And I’m guessing Robin’s asking for plenty of wood, by the looks of your farmhouse.”

“You’ve got a good memory,” you remarked, happy for the soft little repartee you and Leah seemed to be establishing.

“It _is_ something that I pride myself on, in all honesty.”

“Brava,” you teased, testing the waters with a smirk.

“My thanks,” she bowed slightly and began to grease the pan. “Do you like stir fry?”

“ _Hell yes_ I do.”

* * *

“So what are you sculpting, by the way? I never even asked.”

“Ah, well, that’s the thing. I’m not really sure yet?” Leah glanced over her shoulder towards her workspace, eyebrows knitting together. After a moment, she looked back down at the used and dirty pans in front of her. “To be honest, it feels like I’m figuring it out as I go. I’m still pretty lost right now, but it’s beginning to take shape, and from there I’ll figure out what kind of direction it’s headed in, you know?”

You nodded, despite still being a bit lost in her thought process.

“It’s the first time that I’ve just… let myself go, I guess? That I started a project without knowing exactly where I’m going with it. It’s intimidating, really, because if I can’t figure it out, then it’s a waste of time and materials. But if I do, then I’m gonna be really damn proud of myself. I know it’s gonna be abstract—that I can tell already—but what it really means is still up in the air.”

“That’s pretty brave,” you murmured, a smile forming on your lips. “Not really knowing where it’s gonna take you.”

“Maybe,” she replied, taking a sponge to the pan in the sink. “It feels like a rite of passage, if that makes sense? Like I need to learn how to just… trust my instincts.”

“No, that definitely makes sense.”

“Thanks. It feels cheesy as fuck, but it also feels right.”

“Then there’s nothing to fight against.”

“On paper, yes. And then I ruin it for myself.”

“You don’t _ruin_ anything,” you chided gently. When she didn’t respond, you looked up at her from your plate of stir fry.

Her eyes had softened, and she momentarily stopped scrubbing dishes to share that gaze with you.

“That’s very kind of you,” she replied, giving you a small smile. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, shrugging and quickly looking away. “It’s whatever. It’s _true_.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” she chuckled, turning back to the sink. The sounds of clacking dishware and running water filled the conversation gap. Once that business was settled, she joined you at the table, her own plate untouched.

“Thank you, again, for the food.”

“If anything, I should be thanking you,” you offered with a smile. “You’ve… You’ve been very generous with your time and your… _friendship_ , I suppose. I don’t know a better way to put that.” You glanced down at your food, picking at a piece of grilled cauliflower before continuing. “It’s nice to have someone to be around, even though we both have our own things going on.” You didn’t dare look up for fear that your expression would show how vulnerable you felt.

  
“You’re too kind,” Leah finally murmured, a hint of newfound shyness in her tone. You looked back up at her only to find her head low, an almost exact replica of your posture.

“Say what you will, but I call it as I see it,” you shrugged, cocking an eyebrow and hoping to lighten the mood. Leah shot a playful glance up at you, the tiniest of smirks playing at her lips. “And dinner just seals the deal. That’s a Damn Good Neighbor Move, if you ask me.”

Leah chuckled and finally began eating her own dinner. You shared a minute or two of comfortable silence as the birds outside reminded you two of the early evening beginning to hang overhead. Every now and again, you would sneak a glance at Leah, trying again to get a better read on her. Mostly, her bangs hung in front of her eyes and clouded over any clear insight you could gleam on what was going on inside her head.

“Hey, so, I was wondering if you—”

The ring of the landline cut Leah off, and her head immediately snapped over to the phone. She exhaled sharply and crossed over to the phone.

“Hello?”

A beat of silence.

“May I ask who it is calling?”

You turned back to finishing your food, hoping it counted as some form of privacy when no wall separated you from her.

“I’m sorry, you have the wrong number.”

She hung up with enough force to startle you, and you accidentally dropped your fork onto the floor. You cringed as the metal clattered onto hardwood. After diving down to pick it back up, you hesitantly turned back to Leah.

“Hey, um—” Her voice cracked on the _um_ , and she wasn’t looking at you. “I hate to, ah, call the evening so soon, but—”

“Oh, do you need me to—”

“I’m _really_ sorry, but I just need a second—”

“It’s absolutely fine—”

“But I’m really glad you came over, though, but… yeah.”

You let go of the breath you were holding and fumbled your way out of your chair, your heartbeat racing. You felt your pulse going haywire in your neck.

“Thank you for—Thank you for having me.”

“Anytime.”

You nodded quickly, grabbing your keys and phone as you made a beeline for her front door. The sudden feeling of Leah’s hand on your shoulder made you jump again, and you whizzed around to face her. She still avoided eye contact, and you thought you saw the beginnings of tears welling up at the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry this is so sudden. But I mean it. Anytime. Just not right now. But after this. Anytime.”

“Of course, Leah.” You tried to get her to meet your gaze, but she only looked at the floor. “When you wanna talk, I’ll be here. You could even come to the farm for a change of pace.”

“I appreciate that,” she nodded slowly. She gave your shoulder a small squeeze. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, Leah.” You offered a weak smile, then opened her door. “I’ll see you around.”

You closed her door softly, standing at her doorstep a moment longer.

What the fuck just happened.

You released your grip on the doorknob and began walking north back to your farm, not daring to look behind you.

As your thoughts came back to you, your muscles began to relax. Bits and pieces of the evening began to click into place.

You didn’t want to bombard Leah with questions. She wants space right now more than anything, and you assume that she’ll reach out once she’s ready. But until then…

You flopped onto your bed once you returned back to the farmhouse. Thoughts began swimming in your head, and you replayed Leah’s side of the phone calls over and over again, reaching for some semblance of who could reduce her to shaking tears with a 30 second phone call. That had to be years of history jammed into a few rushed minutes.

These hypotheticals and scenarios kept you awake a while longer before you began nodding off, the adrenaline long past and a sense of heaviness sinking into your limbs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *holds up a published chapter two after however long*  
> could a depressed person make THIS?  
> but in all seriousness, thanks for reading. also, there is no schedule for when i update my fics. i'm going through some medical mental health stuff, so who's to say when what will update.  
> but i will always love leah!! fight for this woman!!  
> stay safe. you're so loved. <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> i fucking love leah and she inspired me to take the plunge into my first long term fic so fingers crossed!!!!  
> i don't know if i'm gonna stick with chapter titles correlating to chapter titles in a how to book, but it's almost one am and i thought it was witty and i really just want to publish the first chapter omg  
> but as always, comment if you like it, cause that always makes me want to write more!  
> love y'all! <3 <3


End file.
